


Rewarm

by Xaidread



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:53:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9131299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xaidread/pseuds/Xaidread
Summary: AU: Surviving "Broken Trust", Kanen’tó:kon travels to the homestead before the village emigrates.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This work was first posted on tumblr.

Kanen’tó:kon’s horse plows through the snow piled knee-high. He heads east chasing after Ratonhnhaké:ton’s ghost trail, hoping to find him at the homestead. But what if he isn’t there? If he had just left, or has been gone for weeks and weeks, how long should he stay and wait? Would Ratonhnhaké:ton even want to see him after what happened? If the colonists hadn’t already seduced him then, did they corrupt him now or does he remain resolute? He himself had been seduced by Charles Lee and the Templar promises whispered in his ear.

It is a long and lonely ride. It leaves him alone with his thoughts, his doubts. Maybe he should just turn back.

It isn’t worth prodding at a lost limb, undeniably irreparable.

He’ll be turned away without a doubt.

_Go home; this isn’t your war to fight. I am doing all I can so you need not get involved._

This isn’t war he wants to speak of anymore. He was entrusted to protect them and failed the only chance he’d get to liberate them. The only time he went to prove himself, that he could make an impact as great as Ratonhnhaké:ton has done, is doing, he made the wrong decision, trusted the wrong man. Men. No, Ratonhnhaké:ton averted the attack by the patriots and Kanen’tó:kon would have led his men to sure failure otherwise.

Disgraced and unworthy of his adornments. He should be divested.

But he retains what he has that cannot be disrespected by removal and storage. The clothes on his back are the plainest he has.

He wraps the blanket over his shoulders tighter against the chill gust. He should be within a day’s ride of the homestead. Even if Ratonhnhaké:ton isn’t there to receive him, the neighbors might provide aid while he hunkers down and awaits the Assassin’s arrival. Feed for the horse, stabling, a hearth to sleep by if they’re comfortable with that. He’ll stable himself if they aren’t, hope they won’t chase him out for being a horse thief.

Winter is a poor season to be away from family and warmth. Worst for those burned out of homes by Sullivan. This may be his last chance to see Ratonhnhaké:ton. They will move west after the winter passes, abandon Kanatahséton. He needs to know that, at least, and be given the choice to move with them.

He passes the night in a restless sleep, the bite of winter wind, sharp and raking, coming through the crevices in the shelter he made out of the overhang.

It is late afternoon when he comes across unfamiliar buildings. It has been years since he last stepped foot on the Homestead. He drops from his horse’s back and leads her to a fence where he secures the reins, then approaches the building with an active smithy. There, a big man with huge arms works metal.

"Excuse me," Kanen’tó:kon calls over the hammering and roaring from the fire. "Is this the homestead of Davenport?"

The smith looks up from his work and answers with an affirmative. "You a friend of Connor?" he asks in turn.

The name is unfamiliar to him. He looks down as he tries to process, unconsciously knitting his brows and biting the inside of his lip. He remembers that Ratonhnahe:ton took up another name to walk amongst the colonists, and the old man of Davenport called him something. "I only know him as Ratonhnhaké:ton. Is he in the manor?"

"Ah," the smith says, nodding. "More likely to be there than not today. Say, does his native name… does it have a meaning?"

Kanen’tó:kon considers for a moment. What would Ratonhnhaké:ton do? Well, he’d tell it if asked, and the man is asking. "A life that is scratched."

The smith nods some more. "Hard times. Makes for hard men. Oh, while you’re heading through, tell him I’ve got his order ready."

"I will." He returns to his horse, unties the reins, and takes her up the walk to the hill. He finds more people across the bridge and waves at each person he passes by. Most greet back with waves of their own, a few saying either "Good afternoon" or "Good day." Nice enough people so far.

He reaches the hill and directs the horse to a spare stall at the stables beside the manor. Off with the riding gear to the sound of the dog barking behind him. He turns to head for the front door, but the horse nudges her nose against his shoulder. Oh right, grooming. He frowns, knowing he knows nothing. "Sorry. Maybe Ratonhnhaké:ton will know what to do." He pats her neck and heads up.

Three short, successive raps on the white door. Stepping back a pace, he waits and soon hears someone approaching. The door opens.

"Kanen’tó:kon?" His name passes through Ratonhnhaké:ton’s lips in a whisper of disbelief.

He gives a small, dumb smile and tries to think of something to say. Nothing stupid or anything to tear old scars.

His words spill like beans from an overturned basket, rolling and garbled in his haste: "Peace, I hope you’re well. Help me groom my horse? The smith told me to tell you he has something ready for you."

Ratonhnhaké:ton smiles, if a little sadly, and reaches a hand to tentatively touch the flesh of Kanento:kon’s finger pads. "I hope you’re not still mad at me," he says, moving to lead the other man into the building.

"Hold on, my horse!" Kanen’tó:kon holds Ratonhnhaké:ton firmly at the door and points to her with his right hand. "I don’t know how to groom her. Would you show me? And um, is there any food? I’ve come a long way."

"Yes, of course. It is good to see you."

"I feel the same."


End file.
